


Knock Before You Enter

by brookebond



Series: 007 Fest 2017 [4]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Bond Breaks In, M/M, bond is injured, q is naked, sort of 00q, the start at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 06:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11396991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookebond/pseuds/brookebond
Summary: Bond really needs to learn how to knock first.





	Knock Before You Enter

**Author's Note:**

> Another little fill for a prompt!  
> "Normal people knock first."
> 
> Unbeta'd and I have no idea what's good or not anymore.  
> So here it is! Just enjoy the fun idea.

The water pounded against his shoulders, the hot water easing the ache in his muscles. He loved his job, he really did, but there were times where Q wished it didn’t involve so much hunching. Or that MI6 had an in-house masseuse. He smiled at the thought, wondering if he could find room in his budget for weekly massages.

If he sweet-talked Eve, he might just find an extra hundred pounds in his budget.

With new motivation, Q finished his shower and stepped out into the steamy room only to find Bond sitting on the floor, back pressed firmly against the door.

Q stumbled backwards, arms flying out to stop him from falling on his arse. “007? What are you doing in my bathroom?”

Bond mumbled something incoherent and that was when Q actually looked at the agent.

There was blood trickling down the side of his face, three buttons were missing from his shirt, his jacket sleeve was partially torn at the shoulder, he was covered in dirt, and there was a half empty bottle of scotch in his right hand.

“What happened?” Q asked, taking the few steps to Bond and dropping to his knees so he could assess the damage properly.

Bond ducked out of Q’s reach, wincing at the movement. “Don’t.”

“You’re in my flat, looking like this, and you think you can tell me not to do something?” Q choked back an incredulous laugh, unable to believe Bond’s gall. He had seen it time and time again, but faced with it right then, Q couldn’t comprehend how the agent had found himself in Q’s bathroom if he didn’t want help.

“There was nowhere else to go,” Bond mumbled.

Q sighed, manhandling Bond until he was standing—leaning heavily against Q—and Q helped him onto the toilet, seat down so he could sit while Q tended to his face.

The cut wasn’t deep, just a shallow thing that one small butterfly stitch closed with ease.

Bond swigged from the bottle, drinking another quarter of it before Q had finished with him.

“You smell like a brewery,” Q complained, tossing a pair of plastic gloves into the rubbish.

“Well… you’re naked,” Bond countered.

Q froze, a sudden draught adding to Bond’s words. He’d forgotten he’d just gotten out of the shower when he noticed Bond. How had he forgotten that?

“Yes, I am,” Q hedged, eyes locking on the towel rail and groaning internally that there wasn’t anything hanging up there.

“Why are you naked?”

“It’s how one tends to bathe.”

“But I’m here,” Bond said, his head dropping forward slightly.

“I’m still not sure why, though,” Q sighed, watching his agent drink himself to oblivion. There had to be a way to get the nearly empty bottle out of Bond’s hands but Q couldn’t think of anything that would leave him unharmed.

“You weren’t meant to be naked,” he mumbled, standing from the toilet and stumbling into Q.

Q groaned under the sudden weight and slipped an arm around Bond. “Yes, well… normal people knock first. It’s manners, though I’m sure you’ve completely forgotten yours,” he sighed. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“S’not how I imagined that.”

“You have no idea what you’re saying,” Q said as they slowly shuffled out of the bathroom to Q’s bedroom. He was still annoyingly aware of how naked he was, but with a double-oh agent plastered to his side, there wasn’t anything Q could do about it. Besides, he figured Bond was too drunk to remember anything in the morning. Well, he  _ hoped _ Bond was too drunk. There was every possibility Bond would remember it all which was more problematic. Q hadn’t perfected his amnesia serum yet. “Let’s just get you into bed and you can sleep this off, yeah?”

Bond nodded, mumbling something under his breath that Q couldn’t quite understand. Instead of asking about it, Q just settled Bond on top of the bed, not bothering to remove any clothing. When Bond woke up, Q wanted there to be less horror over the fact that both of them had been naked. So he went the safer route and didn’t touch the agent once he was snuggled into Q’s pillows.

“If you mention a word of this to anyone, I will find a way to erase your memory,” Q threatened once he was sure Bond was asleep. He also took the opportunity to find a pair of pyjamas and slipped them on along with a Star Trek shirt.

He was grabbing the blanket off the foot of his bed when Bond spoke up, ruining the illusion that he’d been asleep at all.

“Never took you for a Trekkie.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Q huffed indignantly.

Bond looked up at him, his expression startlingly sober. “I’d like to, though. Know it all.”

Q’s heart pounded against his chest as he clutched the blanket a little bit tighter. “We’ll talk about this in the morning when you aren’t drunk.”

Bond sighed but nodded, his easy acquiescence a small mercy for Q.

Q paused at the door, glancing back at Bond to find him watching. Q shook his head, eyes darting away from the agent. “Next time, remember to knock.”


End file.
